


Catharsis in the Snow

by kurohswife



Series: This is how we mend our shattered hearts [1]
Category: Miracle in Cell No. 7
Genre: Character Analysis, Gen, Introspection, Spoilers, headcanons, korean movie, miracle in cell no. 7 - Freeform, of a sort....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurohswife/pseuds/kurohswife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the years between, Ye Seung desired nothing more than to see her father’s name be cleared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catharsis in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: A fantastic movie. Spoilers for anyone who hasn't watched.
> 
> Jan 11 2016: Not yet edited
> 
> I recently watched this movie (a month or two ago?) and couldn't stop thinking about the brave young woman who would have had to deal with such trauma in her younger years, to be faced with injustice at such a young age... It's awful, even though it's fictional haha.

_Ye Seung is pretty, Ye Seung is smart._

 

Ye Seung was young during the trial but she knew - she understood what was happening and yet she was powerless to do anything. Her teacher’s hands covered her ears and the muffled verdict was etched into her mind - and would stay there, for years. It would throb and echo in her mind, intermingling with her father’s desperate pleading and cries during their last meeting - until it grew and billowed to a shrill static. 

 

She channeled this static into her studies. 

 

Every case learnt. Every law memorised. Every verdict and all the information that led to its culmination, she stitched into her mind to close the gaping wound the injustice of her father’s execution left in her mind, with her (no, _their_ ) Sailor Moon bag looking over her from its shelf.

 

_Ye Seung is pretty, Ye Seung is smart._

 

Every red-inked 100 on her paper was a silent victory, a step towards achieving her goal. Every red-inked error was a blow that threatened to rip justice away from her grasping hands. 

 

Her family (her primary teacher and that ragtag group from cell number seven) worried _immensely_. She worked tirelessly, and even more so to hide her hunger for the right, true verdict behind a carefully crafted facade of perfection. 

 

Ye Seung graduated university as valedictorian. Her family was there, laughing and crying and snapping photos of their daughter, all grown up. 

 

But her father wasn’t there to hug her and call her his beloved daugher, his smart and pretty Ye Seung. All because of one police commissioner. 

 

She filled out the forms as soon as she had graduated: the paperwork needed for the case to be reopened. She checked, and re-checked, and checked again - everything had to be perfect, like a red-inked 100. 

 

_Ye Seung is pretty, Ye Seung is smart_.

 

When she was finally in the court room for the last stage of the umpteenth time, words spilled from her lips, a coherent jumble of thoughts she had dreamed to say for many years. Words that were accusing. Words that begged. Words that had been etched into her heart deeply, she could now use to bring the right verdict to be handed down. 

 

Her words were a symphony! Every note she composed, every pace she set - it was to the metronome of a corrupt tempo set up by the police commissioner. Every note pushed back at his with a crescendo of truth, culminating at the climax of the Judge’s staccato gavel!

 

And now, finally, some justice was served. The case that had plagued her for more than a decade of her young life had finally reached its deserved end - in her mind, her father could rest in peace.  The next step was to challenge the Police Commissioner - to demand that he be charged for all the corruption and culture of self-serving he had instilled into the police force. But for now, a small victory had been achieved. 

 

Ye Seung is pretty, Ye Seung is smart.

 

The light snow that drifted onto Ye Seung’s face was a welcome respite from the heated case. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a day with stormy clouds and heavy rain that had forecast the beginning of a tragic tale was a callous memory calmed by the quiet blanket of snow. 

 

And as Ye Seung smiled up at the sky, her querulous conscience was quelled.


End file.
